


Before I Sleep

by storyskein



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Camping, Car Sex, F/M, Future Fic, Life-Affirming Sex, More accurately Rover sex, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, So Bellamy and Miller make a deal, There are delinquents and no privacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 18:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6621640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyskein/pseuds/storyskein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But Miller?” Clarke sat on one of the benches and Bellamy knelt in between her legs. </p><p>This time, Bellamy blushed, a sight that Clarke had never, ever seen. </p><p>And she knew. </p><p>“Oh my god. This was Miller’s idea.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before I Sleep

The Rover was cramped during long drives; there was no getting around it. Carrying six people and supplies made for no leg room and a bunch of irritable scouts. They loved each other, but there was a limit, you know? 

Miller, Monty, Harper, Octavia, Bellamy, and Clarke were on day three of a week-long mapping mission to prepare for the exodus of the remainder of the Sky People. Kane wanted as much as the first part of the route planned out as possible, and the Delinquents were always restless to get out of those walls. 

Sometimes the mapping runs were loud and boisterous, but as they neared the exodus date they had taken a turn for the quiet. Monty had put on his Miller playlist, blues punctuated by heavy metal, and they talked quietly upfront. Octavia sat next to her, mending some pants she had torn the day before. Harper sat across from Octavia, asleep on Bellamy’s shoulder, and Bellamy was intently reading a gardening book. 

It might be cramped, but Clarke couldn’t help but feel peace as she leaned her head back against the side of the truck. She closed her eyes, letting the heat and the humidity cradle her. Hot wind blew in through the shutters, catching her newly shorn hair, but she liked silky rustle on the back of her neck. The lightness of it all felt good.

Clarke didn’t know how long she dozed. When she opened her eyes the afternoon light had taken on an amber hue. She lifted her gaze to Bellamy—it was so hard to not just stare at him now that they were together, she still hadn’t gotten used to it—and he was looking at her with that…look. Like if no one else was around he’d be fucking her in a seconds. 

He saw she had woken and gave her a half-smile, half-shrug, sliding his foot out to touch hers. Her stomach flipped and heat crawled up her neck.

Octavia leaned over, not even turning her head. “Ew. Gross.”

Clarke grinned, not taking her eyes off of Bellamy, who had returned to being conspicuously absorbed in his book. 

“That’s my brother, Griffin.”

“Yes, and right now he’s absorbed in how to prevent a hornworm infestation.”

Octavia’s eyes flashed to her, crinkled at the edges. “Is that a metaphor for something?”

“Maybe. You’re too young to know.”

Octavia snorted and returned her full attention to her stitching. 

Clarke and Bellamy hadn’t announced their…new arrangement…and only Octavia had guessed. And to be fair, it wasn’t guessing so much as Octavia walking down the hallway early in the morning as Clarke was ducking out of Bellamy’s room. 

There was only one explanation for Clarke sneaking out of his room in the pre-dawn. Octavia just smirked when she saw Clarke and continued on to the mess hall for breakfast. 

***

An hour later, as the golden afternoon light began competing with the dark shadows from the trees, Miller jerked to the Rover to a stop. 

“Map says there’s a spring over that way.” Monty pointed out the passenger side window. “And it’s relatively flat…”

Bellamy closed his book and tossed it in his pack. “This’ll do. Let’s get out of this fucking truck.”

An hour later their sleeping bags were spread around a hastily assembled fire ring. The spring was as promised, enough water flow to fill the canteens and clean up a little, but that was about it. Still, it was enough to have a quick, cool wash.

Clarke took a long pull from the Monty’s flask when she sat back down next to Bellamy in her tanktop and a pair of undershorts she had filched from his bunk. 

Bellamy leaned into her shoulder and his whisper, already scented with moonshine, tickled her skin. “Those are mine.”

She turned to him slightly. “Yes, they are.”

“I like that.”

“I knew you would.” The whiskey and the moonlight and the freedom of being away from the Ark plucked at the desire between them. All of that plus three days of nothing more than looks and touches after they had _just just just_ started having sex with each other. 

“You’re getting better at this,” she said loudly to Monty, breaking the connection between her and Bellamy, laughing as she passed the flask to Octavia. 

“Thanks, Clarke,” Monty said in his dry tone. Clarke noticed his eyes darted between her and Bellamy. “But really, it helps to be using real grain instead of whatever we could reconstitute from the Ark…”

“Oh, gross.” Clarke could see Octavia’s scrunched nose in the firelight. “I don’t even want to know…”

“Well there was that time Jasper and I found discarded carb-cubes in the trash…”

***

The stars were a glittery blanket above them, and the dying fire hissed several feet away. Clarke listened to the deep, relaxed breathing of her found-family, grateful that even if she couldn’t sleep, they could. 

For the first several months back from Polis she couldn’t sleep because of panic attacks. But now? She couldn’t sleep because of the pull in her lower belly, the ache for Bellamy that made her want to both squeeze her legs together and touch herself until she came. 

Would anyone know? 

Clarke pulled her blanket over her shoulders, looked around once to make sure everyone was asleep. They all seemed like it--bodies rising and falling with deep breaths. Only Miller and Bellamy were off their mats. Miller took first watch and Bellamy went to walk the perimeter with him, but they were in the woods somewhere. Didn't count. 

Clarke slid a hand into the undershorts. Just the thought that they were Bellamy’s gave her cunt a jolt. Fuck, she wanted him. 

She bit her lip as her fingers slid into her folds, already wet. God. This was probably a bad idea. She had no idea if she could be quiet when she came; she was noisy as fuck and she knew it.

“Hey.”

Bellamy’s voice caused her to whip her hand out of her pants so fast that there was no hiding where they were. 

“Goddamnit, Bellamy.” 

“Shh.” He put a finger to her lips and leaned in close. “Come with me.”

“What?”

He nodded his head to the Rover parked a fifty feet away at the tree line. 

“But—Miller?”

“Just come on.” Bellamy looked up to make sure everyone else was still sleeping—they were—then pulled the blanket off of her.

The grass was soft and cool under their silent feet. The Rover door opened with only a slight squeak, and Clarke gave thanks for Raven and her obsessive tending to all things mechanical. Bellamy guided her in, his hand big and warm on the small of her back, before closing the door. Shadows fell over them, and only slanted moonlight made it through the shuttered windows. 

“But Miller?” Clarke sat on one of the benches and Bellamy knelt in between her legs. 

This time, Bellamy blushed, a sight that Clarke had never, ever seen. 

And she knew. 

“Oh my god. This was Miller’s idea.”

Then she blushed. 

Bellamy coughed. “He. Well. You know how I went with him on perimeter check? We, uh, made an arrangement. It’ll be his and Monty’s turn tomorrow night.”

“How did he even know?”

“I don’t think we’re hiding it, Clarke.”

“No, I guess not.” Clarke worried her lip with her teeth. “But I don’t know how I feel about them knowing we’re having sex…”

“How is that any different from the Ark? Monty and Miller share a room across the hall from mine. Closer than this.”

“Good point…”

Bellamy cupped her chin with his palm. His fingers were rough against her cheek. “We don’t have to, Clarke.”

She answered him by bringing her hand up to his face and tracing the scars there, followed closely by her lips. Those silvery lines haunted her, still, in so many ways. 

“No, I definitely want to,” she whispered between kisses on his cheek, his earlobe, the tender spot where his jaw met his neck. He moaned, just a little, and pressed his neck into her lips. 

They might not have been having sex for long—just over two weeks now—but it she knew it would always be her favorite thing when he just let her kiss him. And tonight he did. He knelt still in front of her as she brushed kisses along his lips, his jaw, and his neck. 

“We need to get this shirt off,” she murmured as she tugged at the hem. 

“If we must, we must.” 

Clarke pulled the shirt off and ran her hands along his shoulders. His skin was warm against her cool hands, and she placed careful kisses along the ridge of his collarbone. 

“Fair is fair, Clarke,” he said when she looked up at him. 

“I suppose,” she mock-sighed.

Clarke tugged off her tanktop and unclasped the constricting bra, breasts falling heavy and tender from being aroused. Bellamy hooked his fingers around the waistband of her (his) shorts and tugged them down. The cool night air slid over her aroused and swollen skin, making her gasp.

Bellamy didn’t say anything as he regarded her naked form for a moment, then suddenly his hands were fisted in her curls. He crushed her to him, mouth and teeth flashing against hers. Clarke pressed herself against his chest, and he locked her there with his other arm, pushing her into him. 

_Fuck_ , she loved the way their skin felt together. Smooth and rough and sweaty. Her cunt gave a long, slow pulse, and her hips rocked against him trying to find friction _somewhere_. 

Bellamy laughed, low and breathless, and answered by gently pushing her against the seat-back of the bench. He ran his hands up and down her thighs and with each stroke he pushed her legs further apart, until she was completely exposed to him. 

Clarke almost couldn't look at him looking at her; it turned her on too much. But she can’t resist either. 

“Fuck, Clarke.” He slid his fingers over her damp curls, drawing his thumb up and down her folds, until she let out a low whine and canted her hips towards his fingers. 

“You like that?” He whispered the words against the sensitive skin on her thigh. 

She didn’t say anything, just squirmed again.

“Say it, Clarke. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I want you to eat me out.”

“And?”

“Then I want you to fuck me.”

Clarke felt him grin against her thigh. “That’s more like it.”

Bellamy licked one long stroke from her hollow to her clit, and Clarke’s thighs clamped together as he pressed his tongue, unrelenting, on her nub. 

His laughter rumbled against her as he pushed her legs apart, but when he looked at her his eyes were all heat. “Hold your knees. And be still.”

She hesitated for a second, and his eyebrow arched. “Do it, Clarke. Hold you knees, and be still.”

Clarke opened her thighs and held her knees. 

“Good.” Bellamy dipped his head back to her cunt, this time with gentle licks around the outside of her labia, letting her get used to him. His tongue swirled figure-eights from her entrance, crossing her labia, and over her clit, repeating that pattern until she dug her teeth into her lip so hard she tasted metal. 

Bellamy knew exactly how far to push her before relenting. Just as she was about to twist away from the delirium of his tongue, he changed it up and began circling her clit with his thumb. 

“Oh god.” Clarke let go of her knees, thrusting her hand to catch his and press harder against her clit. 

Bellamy looked up lazily, moonlight glinting on his mouth. Instead of reprimanding her, he just grinned. “Touch your breasts, Clarke.”

She slid her hands up her stomach and to her nipples, tweaking and rolling them between her fingers. 

Bellamy pushed a finger into her, stroking in and and out at lazy intervals as he sucked on her clit. With her hands kneading her breast and the closed-in heat of the Rover and the hypnotic buzzing of the cicadas outside, Clarke’s mind began to blur. She felt so good, so relaxed, and yet incredibly fucking turned on. 

Bellamy added a second finger, then a third. With his large hands she felt stretched and full as he began to thrust faster, lick her harder. Within moments her almost-out-of-body experience became almost-painfully in-body. Her skin was stretched and swollen and pulsing; his fingers curled against her walls, his stubble abrading her thighs.

Clarke’s hands caught his head, holding his face to her cunt as she rocked against him. But his fingers and mouth didn’t stop, if anything, he moved faster, sucked harder, and _there_. She pressed into that sweet spot in her mind, in her flesh, and released into an orgasm that shook her entire body. 

Clarke collapsed, panting, eyes closed, on the bench of the Rover. If she thought she felt liquid and relaxed before…

But Bellamy wasn’t having any of it. He loved it when she was like that, right after a pummeling orgasm, when she was loose and sensitive and almost can’t bear to be touched. 

“Clarke,” he whispered, wheedling. Even two weeks ago she didn’t know what his voice sounded like during sex. She knew everything else about him, every dirty secret and every crippling fear, but not the husky, loving sound of his voice when he tried to rouse her for even more pleasure. 

Logically Clarke knew that they couldn’t have happened before they did. It had taken months for them to shed the traumas, to get used to one another as friends, and then to realize they wanted more. But hearing his voice now filled her with such happiness that she could only respond. She had laid on her stomach on the seat bench to catch her breath, and now she looked at him over her shoulder. 

“Come to me.”

And she did. 

The vinyl stuck to her skin as she pushed upward. She crawled to where he was sitting, his back braced against the bench on the opposite side, legs pulled up against him. 

“Tell me what you want, Clarke.” Bellamy’s voice was a thread of comfort in the dark night. He knew that she still had…trouble…with sex sometimes; that sometimes she froze in the night, afraid like a doe caught in the gaze of a wolf. That sometimes she needed someone to gentle her out of her cold fear. 

Clarke felt that coldness in the hot, muggy Rover. Felt the fear icing over her joints. 

“Hey.” Bellamy’s called to her, warm and deep. “Clarke.” His hands rubbed up and down her thighs. “Come back to me. Do you need to stop?” 

“No.” Her eyes snapped to him, and she could feel the fear thawing. That fear was the past; Bellamy, here and now and in this goddamn Rover was the present. 

Bellamy’s lips tucked into a smile. “Then tell me what you want.” 

Clarke cleared her throat. “Take off your pants.”

Bellamy’s gaze was hungry on her as he complied, unzipping his pants and pushing them down and off to join her pile of clothes. Seeing him naked made her flush from toe to forehead. He knew it; she knew it.

Clarke dropped on her knees beside him, bent down and brought his dick into her mouth. Bellamy’s hips lifted against her mouth, surprised. She licked into his slit, tasting the salty pre-cum. 

“Fuck, Clarke!” 

She popped off his dick and grinned, then in one swift movement, straddled his cock and positioned herself over it, allowing just the tip at her entrance. With her elbows bracing her weight on the opposite seat bench, she leaned down and grazed her lips along Bellamy’s. 

“Tell me, Bellamy, what you want.”

He reached up to kiss her, open-mouthed and hot. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Mmm.” She twirled her hips around the head of his dick. Bellamy groaned. “You want me to ride you?”

“Yes,” he breathed into her mouth. 

Clarke took him to the hilt in one fluid movement, not even giving herself time to adjust to his size. She fucking loved the pinch of it, the stretch of his girth inside her. Bending down, Clarke captured his lips in her mouth as she began to grinding her hips against his. 

Bellamy flexed his pelvis into her, meeting every thrust with his own. Clarke knew they were rocking the truck but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She needed him; he needed her. And that was all that mattered. 

Clarke ground down against him. Bellamy thrust against her. She felt as if they were fighting against some unnamed thing—the coldness in her, the darkness in him. Desperation took hold as their rhythm became relentless. 

His fingers gripped into her hips, stilling her, sure to leave bruises. He kept fucking her even as he held her, fucking her until Clarke felt him release inside her. She circled her hips against him, finding that perfect pressure, and orgasmed again, clenching down on his dick. 

***

Clarke laid her head against his slick shoulder, panting, and Bellamy kissed her forehead. 

“Were we loud?” Clarke asked, smiling against him. 

Bellamy laughed. “Do you care?”

“Mmm.” It was as clever as she could be. 

It took them five minutes to put on their clothes, softly giggling, helping each other with buttons and snaps. Bellamy planted a kiss on her shoulder as she pushed open the Rover door. The summer air was fresh and silky against her skin. 

Clarke crept back towards her pallet, her eyes searching her friends’ sleeping forms. Did they notice? Did they care? Everyone at least pretended to be sleeping, but it was hard to tell how loud you were having sex in secret. 

Still…Whatever. Like Bellamy said, everyone in Arkadia, and on the Ark, lived within a few feet of each other. Bellamy himself had made a deal with Miller for this to happen. This was just the reality of sex when you lived so close and never alone. 

Somehow that thought comforted Clarke as she laid back on her sleeping bag, enjoying the after-effects of two orgasms. 

Then she heard a rustle in the grass, and her turned her head towards the sound. 

Bellamy. He pulled his mat right up against hers, even though he had only been a few feet away. 

“No use in hiding it anymore,” he shrugged as she grinned at him. 

Clarke was too warm and tired to answer him. She just turned and wrapped him in her arms, head pillowed on his chest. And finally, she fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Before I Sleep" by Joy Williams
> 
> Thanks to my betas, skikru & danikboo :)


End file.
